


Change Can Do A Soul Good

by AndreaLyn



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 21:03:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4194804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One year later, Hernando and Lito visit San Francisco to attend Pride and to meet Nomi in person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change Can Do A Soul Good

Before, Lito had two lives.

One in the flash of the cameras that everyone thought they knew intimately. The other, intimately known by the only man who’s ever mattered to him. Now, though, these two lives have collided like a great car wreck, which is for the best. Given that Lito is also balancing seven other lives in his head on any given day, he doesn’t think he can take any detours in his own life. Now, his new life involves candid tell-all interviews that have him somewhat perplexed at the attention he’s been given. (Not many roles, unfortunately, but Lito needs some time off)

Women seem to love him even more, especially the ones who seem to take his coming out as a challenge. They amuse Hernando to no end, and their home now comes with the new addition of a drawer for all the letters, which Hernando and Daniela take too much pride in acting out. Lito’s new life also comes with open doors, the likes of which he might never have imagined.

Amongst the unimagined possibilities is the one he and Hernando are embarking on now.

“You’ve never even wanted to go to this event in Mexico City,” Hernando says at the airport, adjusting his grip on his carry on again. He pushes his glasses up his nose as he searches through the crowd. “Who are we waiting for again?”

“You’ll see,” Lito promises, squeezing Hernando’s arm excitedly as he searches the crowd. His heart is racing as quickly as it’d been the first time he and Hernando kissed in that bathroom, brought on by the sheer adrenaline and excitement that comes of knowing they’re about to meet a part of him.

Plus, meeting Nomi in person is sort of a good way to evaluate whether Lito’s genuinely gone around the bend.

They wander out of the customs check to find none other than Amanita in the front row of the waiting family and friends, wiggling her hips as she waves a sign above her head for, ‘Mexico’s Hottest TV Star’.

Hernando raises his brow and turns to Lito expectantly. “I didn’t know your top rival would be here as well,” he deadpans, encouraging on Lito’s huff of laughter, hidden in Hernando’s neck as he takes solace in being able to do this in public.

Besides, here in San Francisco, no one really gives a damn.

“You ready for this?” Lito asks, threading his fingers in with Hernando’s as he leads him towards Amanita and Nomi – the latter of which looks much more sedate, but no less pleased to see them. 

“I already sat through the flight with you, in economy no less,” Hernando replies fondly. “Besides, it will be a good way to practice my English.”

Amanita practically throws the sign down when they’re close enough, dragging Lito into a hug first before tugging Hernando in to do the same. “I couldn’t believe it when Nomi said you were coming, we’re so glad you’re here!” she enthuses, pulling back to study the both of them. She cups Lito’s cheek, then does the same to Hernando. “I mean, Nomi does her best to tell me all about what she sees, but meeting you guys is really awesome. I’m glad she’s got another ally up there.”

“Amanita,” Nomi chastises softly. “Let them breathe.”

“And give them a chance to run away? Never,” Amanita says, her daring smile growing wider by the second. “Here, I can take your stuff,” she says, prying the carry on from Hernando’s hand, taking his hand with the other and leaving him shooting a shocked look back in Lito’s direction.

Lito laughs and stares after him the way he feels he always has – the same way he knows would out him so quickly if they’re out together, but none of that matters here. Nomi leans up against his side, sharing his personal space as she stares after them. “I’m glad you came,” she admits.

“Feeling a little less crazy now?” he asks. “Because knowing you actually exist is helping convince me I may not need a therapist so urgently.” He breathes in deeply and watches as Hernando and Amanita lead the charge, no doubt already discussing the both of them or whatever new piece of art is enthralling Hernando at this very moment.

“I’m glad you found your courage,” Nomi says quietly.

“I had help for that,” he says, and he means Nomi, but he means Wolfgang too.

He’s never had to fight for anything in his life, but Hernando is certainly worth fighting for. 

“And you?” he asks, tenderly. “Are things well?”

“We’re still worried my mother is going to pop out of the woodwork and push me into another hospital and Nits is a little worried about you-know-who,” Nomi says. “But it’s Pride,” she says. “And after last year, we really need this.” 

Nomi takes them to their new apartment on the outskirts of the city and Lito tries not to feel concern over the four deadbolts on the door (“So we can lock two of them and keep the others unlocked,” Amanita had explained, “so when any motherfucker tries to get in, he’s always locking a few. Wolfgang gave Nomi the idea”), but he’s happy to be here in a place that feels so welcoming and so warm.

That feeling only magnifies once dinner is done and they’ve made it through two bottles of red wine, not to mention the beginnings of a joint.

“I thought he was crazy, at first,” Hernando is explaining to them, though Lito is occupied with staring at what Hernando’s plush, wet lips look like as they suck from the joint. He tries not to be jealous of all that smoke escaping his lips before he remembers he doesn’t have to sit back idle. Before Hernando can go on, Lito bridges the distance between them for a soft, slow kiss.

Hernando laughs as he pushes him away.

“You see? Not just his pretty face he’s worried about. He doesn’t want me tainting his sanity,” he teases.

“What made you change your mind?” Amanita wonders.

Lito had been jealous of Nomi and Amanita. For all that Hernando had come to accept the cluster, it had still taken a number of very fraught days in which Lito had feared losing Hernando all over again, but this time to whatever madness had claimed him. Amanita had accepted everything so quickly, so instantly, and Lito had wanted that.

Hernando gives Lito a considerate look, reaching across the distance to clasp his cheek, rubbing his thumb over his jawline. “Lito’s very good at lying,” he admits, “but he’s never lied to me. To himself, to his friends, to the country, yes, but never to me.” His smile turns tender and Lito melts forward, like he can’t bear to be so far away. “And I thought if he was putting himself out on the line like this, then it must be important.”

“As important as you, _querido_.”

“You see?” Hernando laughs. “Now he calls me his dear,” he says warmly. “And to think I was jealous because I thought I no longer had all of his heart.”

“For all that we share, I think all of us are well aware his was already taken,” Nomi promises, curling back against Amanita. “I think mine’s the same. Our minds are open, our histories and our stories and our skills, but Lito and I, I don’t think the others ever had a chance of sharing what’s in our hearts. They were already full.”

Hernando’s face softens and he gives Lito a fond look. “She should write some of your lines.”

“If I had any lines that needed writing,” Lito murmurs, unable to trap the bitterness before it seeps out. He will never regret the choice he’s made, not in his whole life, but the trouble is that sometimes his current lack of work tends to rub at him.

“You should move up here,” Amanita says. “I mean, the others can help you with your English if you need it and people go crazy for a hot gay guy in West Hollywood,” she promises. 

“Thank you, but no,” Lito says, knowing she only means to be kind. He’s rubbing his thumb in circles along Hernando’s palm. “Our home is in Mexico City. We’ve spent a long time building it up, not to mention I don’t think we could ever convince Daniela to move up here permanently. She says hello,” he says to Nomi and Amanita. “And something a bit more crass about not minding watching, if ever you’re in the area.”

“She’s much more open-minded than even I’d thought,” Hernando says, though there’s a touch of ruefulness in his words. “We’ve had to uninstall a video camera at least once.” Lito shouldn’t admire the pink flush of Hernando’s cheeks so much, but the wine and the pot are combining to make him appreciate every little last thing.

He thinks this is how things slip into something a little more dangerous.

Soon, he is on top of Hernando, hands stroking his neck as he kisses him. The both of them are fuelled on by Nomi and Amanita on the couch nearby, while Amanita works Nomi’s jeans down with quick fingers, laying soft kisses against her hipbone.

“Why do I feel like I have déjà vu?” Hernando breathlessly asks when Lito turns his kisses to his neck.

“We’ve kind of done this before,” Nomi confesses, but her words are surrounded by the moan of pleasure caused by Amanita’s attentions. 

Hernando’s brow furrows and Lito can see that he wants to ask _why_ and _how_ and definitely _where_ , so Lito takes care of that by shoving his pants down and taking him deep in his mouth, knees digging into the wood floor eagerly, wanting to feel like it’s their first time all over again. Hernando’s questions fall away as the only thing he can do is let out such blissful prayers, making Lito feel as if he’s offering benediction.

They begin to swell and merge together.

Nomi and Hernando crying out together, mingling and becoming one in a new way that Lito has never before felt. He feels exposed and private all at once. Within the cluster, it’s as if they all share the same secrets and the feeling of home and sacred space that he experiences in Mexico is here, now, in this San Francisco apartment. 

Lito teases Hernando with the curl of his tongue, so light and teasing before the reckless onslaught of the hard pressure of his lips and mouth, hands gripping Hernando’s hips so possessively tight that will show off the beginnings of markings, fingerprints that match Lito to this man.

And when he comes, _oh_ , when he comes, it’s the most beautiful sound Lito’s ever heard in his life. Hernando can talk about music for hours, but there is no finer sound than that of Hernando’s joy.

Nomi shouts out loud at the exact same moment and Lito burrows his grin against Hernando’s hip, knowing perfectly well that half of her pleasure has come from Lito and his selfless need to see Hernando happy. Doped, dazed, and so in love he can barely stand it, Lito pulls away to smile at Nomi, who is insensate with her own pleasure, arms thrown above her head as Amanita works her way back up her body, kisses pressed to her breasts before curling up with her.

“Your turn?” Hernando murmurs to Lito, just as Nomi is echoing the same words to Amanita.

“Soon,” Lito promises, holding tight to him on his knees, breathing him in and touching the golden expanse of skin before him. This is the new life afforded to him. He reminds himself that he deserves this.

Those feelings come easy when Hernando is pushing into him, making him feel complete the way that even his cluster cannot, not truly. He praises God as loudly as he can, shouts loud enough to evoke the shouts of the neighbours (which makes Amanita and Nomi laugh, thrilled by the new annoyance), and when he settles for the night wrapped around Hernando, he feels _right_.

“I like your imaginary friend,” Hernando sleepily mumbles. 

“You like nearly everyone,” Lito teases, his eyes closed, but a delighted smile on his lips.

“I like her because she lets you be the real Lito,” Hernando says, more seriously. “Three years ago, when I met you, I don’t think I could have ever imagined you taking me to pride in San Francisco, but here you are. Here we are. If Nomi is one of the reasons that we’re here and you’ve allowed your private self to be your public one, then I think maybe I love her.”

“Hands off,” Amanita sleepily replies from the bed nearby. “I saw her first.”

Lito buries his face into Hernando’s neck to suppress the laugh -- he laughs so easily these days, so prone to happiness – and holds just that much tighter to him. 

In the morning, Lito will let Hernando dress him up and put makeup on him, like he’s preparing him for a whole new role, but in truth, they’re only letting the real Lito out. If there are pictures of him with Hernando, then the world will see him and they’ll know that he’s gay, but they will also know that he is loved. Hernando dips his thumb in the pain and grins as he presses it to Lito’s cheek to finish the blurry rainbow adorning his skin.

“Amanita, what do you think?” Hernando calls, like he’s asking for a genuine opinion on the art he’s been decorated with.

“Fucking perfect,” she says, twisting her hair up. “C’mon, boys, I don’t want you to miss a single thing.”

“No,” Lito agrees, his gaze on Hernando and knowing what she means. “I wouldn’t either.”

“Oh, stop looking at me like that, I’ll have to kiss you,” Hernando sighs helplessly. 

So rather than allow Hernando to fulfill that awful, awful promise, Lito leans in to kiss him and kiss him again, then again, and on and on until they are exhausted with touching and their lips ache. Lito has one life, now, but it is the only life he wants and that’s all that matters to him.


End file.
